Shooting Stars
by brencon
Summary: "I don't trust you," she says, fiercely. She turns around, and  her eyes bore into me. She's calculated in her stare, as she once more takes in my being. I try to form a reply, but I've frozen. Stuck in a slack-jawed, confused state. One-shot.


_Can we pretend that airplanes, in the night sky, are like shooting stars. I could really use a wish right now...

* * *

_

I finish off the last my pint and shuffle to my feet. Jackson was twenty minutes late, but I wasn't worried. He'd had a busy day at Declan's house, trying to finish off the bathroom before the new suite arrived.

I order another pint from Bob and feel a hand come to rest on my shoulder.

"Your round, yeah?" Jackson asks, smiling at me before sitting on the bar stool beside me.

"If ya like... but I think you owe me a couple from the other night."

I order another pint for Jackson, pass over the note and wait for my change.

"Bathroom finished then?" I ask Jackson, passing him his pint.

"Finally. If I ever see another rotted floor board it'll be too soon," Jackson replies, sipping his drink.

"So, that's Monday then?" I smirk, sitting on the stool beside him.

He laughs and then drinks once more.

We slip into easy conversation, the disaster of my mam's dinner party being the top of the pile.

"It's not like I'm any different now, just 'cause I've come out. You'd think Carl would understand that?" I sigh, finishing off my pint with relish.

"A headcase?" Jackson winks at me, and finishes his own pint. He pulls some more money from his pocket and then orders the next round from Diane.

She gives me a quizzical look, glancing at Jackson before pulling the pints. I roll my eyes at her, playing the annoyed teen perfectly, but inside I cringe... Why do people have to guilt trip me when I'm already beating myself up about it. I hit him, and I'm gonna have to live with that fact for the rest of my life, even if Jackson tells me that he has forgiven me... I will never forgive myself.

"Aaron, you alright? You're in a world of your own," Jackson asks, shaking me from my internal monologue. He passes the pint to me.

"I'm fine. What were you sayin'?"

"Mum wants to meet you... says she's heard enough about you from me and wants to meet you to see for herself what you're like," Jackson repeats.

I groan at the thought of it. What was I just thinking about? People judging me. Now Jackson's mum wants to meet me? I can't say no because Jackson's important to me... he's stuck by me. And if he's wanting his mother to meet me, then I can't deny him... but I'm not sure if I can do it...

"And you've gone again. Aaron!" Jackson laughs, jostling my shoulder.

"Sorry... When does she want to meet up?" I ask him, drinking deep from my glass. I try to convey my lack of caring, but my heart is racing. I just wonder what she's gonna say to me; what will she think of me?

"Well, she was hoping for Sunday lunch... if that's alright with you?" Jackson tentatively asks, stroking the glass and removing a line of condensation from it.

I rub my cheek, sighing.

"You don't have to, not yet anyway. But mum wants to meet you soon, Aaron."

"I do want to meet her... I'm just, I'm scared of what she might say. I mean, I did hit you and we're still together. It might not go down well with her," I say, leaning on the bar with my elbows. He's about to protest, so I interrupt him, "And I know you say you've forgiven me and that it's in the past, but I'm still a bit... I wish, everyday, that I hadn't smacked you... that I didn't lash out. I just... I can't face another person going off on me," I sigh again, tilting my head to the side as I glance at my half-empty pint glass.

"Aaron..." Jackson says, his voice soft. His hand rests on my shoulder, he squeezes it lightly. I fight the urge to shrug it off and smile at him, a small, slight smile and shake my head.

"I'm dealing, okay? Why don't we get a few cans, head back to mine and watch a DVD?" I suddenly ask, feeling the need to retire to the safety; the privacy of my home.

"As long as it's not Barbara Striesand again... I still have nightmares!"

"Paddy did buy a boxset..." I warn, faking a worried look.

"We could head into to mine instead? You could finally see the brilliance of _Dog Day Afternoon_, which I'm still shocked you haven't heard about it. Al Pacino is a legend."

"Fine... but I'll need to head home and grab a change of clothes first," I say, agreeing to his plan as I finish my drink with a flourish.

"Don't forget your toothbrush," Jackson winks, and I feel my face darken as the blush deepens.

Jackson laughs at my predicament as he lifts the drink to his mouth.

* * *

The weekend passes all too soon, as I climb on the bus to head into Hotten. I'm meeting Jackson at his place before we head to his mum's. Paddy had been giving me a walkthrough of the do's and don't's when it comes to meeting the parents. I had acted annoyed, but had memorised every word, and ran through it all as the bus shunted and jumped across the pot-hole filled road.

I was dressed to impress, again thanks to Paddy's instructions. I was grateful for all he'd said to me, for all he'd done for me in the last year...

He's changed my life.

The bus came to a halt in Hotten, and I got off to find Jackson parked down the road from the stop.

I sighed as I forced my hands in my pockets. I couldn't not go, not now. But I still couldn't bear to hear Hazel tell me off, to get aggro from some woman I've never met because I lamped her son who is now my boyfriend.

I extract a hand from my pocket, grasp the door handle firmly and open it. Jackson smiles at me, and I quickly lean over and kiss his cheek. I blush, force a not-bothered look onto my face and buckle myself in securely.

"Ready?" He asks me, resting his hand on thigh.

"As I'll ever be," I reply, resting my hand lightly on top of his.

"I'm gonna need that hand back..."

I blush, release his hand and scoff as if it was an accident. He chuckles and sets the van in gear before pulling out of the parking spot.

We move further through Hotten, reaching a small housing estate. A car is resting on cement blocks, it's tyres having been robbed for a quick cash injection.

"I didn't know you'd been here before!" Jackson laughs, bouncing his shoulder off mine to tell he was joking.

"I work in a garage, why would I come this far from Emmerdale to nick some tyres when I could just grab some there?" I reply, bouncing shoulders with Jackson again.

"Easy money. Cain would 'ave your head if you nicked from 'im!" he laughs, shifting down gear and then pulling up outside a two-storey, semi-detached house and coming to a stop. I glance out the window, at what I'm assuming is Hazel's home. Gleaming brightly in the almost-harsh July sunshine, the walls are a pristine white. which I take to be Jackson's handy work. The front yard replicates a Chelsea Flower Show garden that me dad had dragged me to, before he met his new wife, when I was still the centre of his world.

"We here?" I ask, as Jackson unclasps his seat belt. I follow suit, staring up at the house once more.

"Yup, it's my mum's house. Sure you're up for this?" he asks me, reclining back in his chair.

I sigh, rub my chin before facing him.

"She's not dragon-like, right? Won't kill me if I've done something to upset her?" I ask, as I think to myself that I may be put down as soon as I step over the threshold because I've already hit him.

"Oi, she's no dragon – she gives as much as she gets but she's no dragon – not like yours anyway!" he smirks. I laugh, lightly thumping him on the shoulder as I smile up at him.

"Oi, I'm the only one allowed to mock me mam!"

His smirk deepens, yet he rolls his eyes, leans in and chastely kisses me before jumping out of the van.

We rush up the drive for no apparent reason. I start to shiver in the breeze that has suddenly struck the cul-de-sac, while Jackson knocks the door and waits. I give him my best bewildered look as footsteps echo behind the solid oak door.

The door opens and a frumpy woman stands there, the biggest smile I've ever seen on anyone's face spread across her features.

"Hiya, mum!" Jackson cheers, as she pulls him into a warm hug. I stare at my trainers, feeling a tad out of place. A few seconds later, I glance back up to find the mother-son bonding ending.

"Mum, this is Aaron, my boyfriend."

She gives me a calculated stare, as if she's giving me the measure.

"Nice to meet you, Aaron. I'm Hazel, Hazel Donovan," she introduces herself, offering her hand for me to shake. I take it in my hand lightly, her soft hand grasping mine firmly. We shake three times before she releases my hand.

"Come in boys, dinner's almost ready."

She allows us to pass, and I catch a scathing look, but she's smiling once more as Jackson leads us into the kitchen/dining room. He plonks himself into a chair, at the head of the table. I sit as close as I can to him, on his right hand side.

I listen to the conversation between Jackson and Hazel, the words flying around my head as they talk a mile a minute. Hazel tuts, shaking her head.

"Son, could you go down to the shop? I've no Bisto for the gravy, and it's not a Sunday roast without gravy!" she explains, closing the cupboard she had been searching in.

He throws me a look, as if to ask me if I'll be alright alone with his mum. I nod, shrug my shoulders and he climbs out of his seat, breathing evenly.

"If I'm not back in 10, call The Police!" he extravagantly says, a mock look of fear clouding his face.

"Why? What would Sting be able to do?" Hazel asks, smirking at her son.

I chuckle, against my will. Jackson's face lights up, seeing me enjoy his mum's brand of humour.

"Right, I'm off! See you in five," Jackson states, rushing from the room, his hand running over my shoulder as he leaves the room.

I sit there, awkwardly. What can I say? I'm just... it's awkward.

Hazel suddenly sighs, the air rushing from her lungs at speed. She leans against the countertop, staring at a spot on the ceiling, as if gathering her strength. I clench my fists, lock my jaw, readying myself for a fight.

"I don't trust you," she says, fiercely. She turns around, and her eyes bore into me. She's calculated in her stare, as she once more takes in my being. I try to form a reply, but I've frozen. Stuck in a slack-jawed, confused state.

"I don't trust you," she repeats, and crosses her arms across her chest. She shakes her head, sighing once more.

"When Jackson told me about the attack, and then the court case and then the article in the Courier... I understood, where you were coming from – the fear, the uncertainty, the chaos that must've been running through your head... I'd talked so much with Jackson after he came out to me and his dad, about _everything_, but he hadn't gone as far as you have!"

"He hasn't had the same _life_ that I've had! If you knew half the things that have happened to me, you'd be like Jackson, you'd understand it!" I shout, and I cringe. My heart beats faster, the blood pounds through my veins, and I'm trying to calm myself down and failing miserably.

"That's not the point! You are angry! An angry, young man! You've hit him! I can't stand by and let him fall into that kind of dangerous relationship. He's my son, and I'm going to protect him, through thick and thin."

She's breathing heavily now, her face set in a hard glare.

I'm fuming, annoyed beyond belief. How dare she? She's known me for all of five minutes, and snippets from newspapers, and she's judging me? Boxing me in, labelling me? I'm suddenly standing, pacing back and forth, snarling like a bull.

"And you don't think I don't regret that? That I've moved past that? Do you know what happened after I hit Jackson? Do you want to know how I reacted, after I was hauled away by the police and charged with ABH? My secret was coming out, my mam found out, and my family were finding out... and I panicked, thrashed Paddy's office and ran off to the garage. I sealed up the entrance, and turned the car on. I tried to kill myself. I hated myself, for everything I'd done, for everything that I could possibly do."

And she's in shock.

I didn't know if my suicide attempt had made it into the newspaper after my court case. I hadn't read that trash when my mam told me about it. I had just binned the waste of paper and carried on with my life.

"When Jackson got the job in the village, I was torn. I wanted nothing to do with him, but I was always thinking of 'im, trying to say sorry. He'd brush me off, like it was nothin', and I would just take it. We only really talked since... since _everything_, was when he saved me from this guy who was doing my head in at community payback. He came at me with a spanner, and Jackson stepped in. He saved me."

She's now listening, her head resting to the side as she watches me wear away her linoleum flooring. I'm coming to a stop, the anger and annoyance dissipating from my system from that simple, caring look she throws at me.

"I'm –" She starts, but I snort.

"Don't... I know where you're coming from, I do. But do you really think I've not been beating myself up for being such a muppet? I'm grateful for Jackson giving me a second chance, alright? And I'm never gonna do that again. I like him too much to even think of doing anything like that again, okay?"

I'm crashing now, coming down from the rush of adrenaline that consumed me during that argument. I pat my pocket, making sure I took my cigarettes with me.

"I'm going for a smoke..." I mutter, withdrawing the packet from my pocket and heading towards the front of the house.

"Wait," she says quietly, moving quickly towards me, a look of determination powering through her very being. I'm wary of what she's going to do, when suddenly I'm encased in her arms and she's hugging me and I don't know what to do.

As quickly as she takes hold of me, she's letting me go.

"I've got a patio out back, furniture and all. Go out back for your cigarette, sit in plastic comfort if you want?" she offers, smiling at me, a smile that I realise is an exact copy of Jackson's.

And I'm smiling back and being led out to the decking and an ashtray is placed on the table before me.

"Thanks," I mumble, lighting a cigarette and taking a deep drag.

She retreats back inside, taking care of the lunch we'll soon be enjoying. I stare at the sky, the oddly-shaped clouds distracting me from the blow-out that just happened.

I'm not alone for long, as Jackson soon arrives in the yard with me, a quizzical look thrown in my direction.

"Everything all right?" he asks, sitting beside me.

"We had words," I state simply, breathing in the toxic air.

"I figured. Mum's all flustered in there... Last time I saw her like that was when her and dad told us they were getting a divorce."

"She was all in my face, telling me to back off from _us_, that she wouldn't see you go through a violent relationship. So I told her everything that's happened. Everything."

I release the smoke, and watch as the fumes rise into the blue sky, before swirling and vanishing with the wind consuming the cul-de-sac.

"She's had a tough time... since I came out," Jackson whispered, staring intensely at his lap.

"What happened?" I question, brow furrowed as I wonder what happened.

"Me dad... he couldn't accept I was gay... blamed mum for it, 'cause she was too soft on me when I were a kid. By the end of their marriage, they'd not shared a kind word in months. It was harsh and angry. She's tough, but that broke her heart."

"So, she was trying to protect you?" I realise, taking a final drag from the cigarette. I stub it out on the ashtray and release the air, my system now relaxed from the argument.

"Yup," he replies, sitting up in the plastic chair. He looks over his shoulder, into the house, to find his mother staring out the window, a smile on her face as she waves us in.

"Lunch must be ready," he says, getting to his feet. I follow suit and take his hand in mine, stopping him from moving for a moment.

"I'm sorry... I shouldn't have reacted... but she was judging me on things she'd read in the paper. I was just setting the record straight."

He nods his head, smiling.

"I know. I think she's regretting her actions already. Now, let's head in – I'm starved and that roast smells delicious."

I nod my head, not releasing his hand, as he leads us back into the kitchen.

We take our seats around the dinner table, cutlery and glasses filled with ice-cold water sat before us.

As Hazel places the gravy-boat before us, she stills.

"I'm sorry," she starts, resting a hand on my shoulder and then her son's. "I judged the book by its cover, and I'm ashamed. That's why me and your dad aren't together anymore, 'cause of his judgements."

"Mum," Jackson starts, but I quickly interrupt.

"Jay, let me," I ask, smiling at Hazel before looking at my boyfriend. He nods his head, allowing me to speak.

"Hazel, like I said before, I understand – you want to protect your kid – but you don't know me, and you'd labelled me as a thug and a menace. And, I'll admit, I was a thug. But that was an act, to cover up my insecurities. I've been fighting myself every day since I was thirteen. If it wasn't for Jackson, I dunno where I'd be now. He's helped me... through everything. But I'd like you to get to know me, for me. Okay?" I finish, my peace offering resting between us all.

Hazel's eyes are misty, yet she's smiling.

"I'd like that," she replies, squeezing my shoulder and then Jackson's.

And we carry on, Jackson carving the roast and Hazel placing the roast spuds on dishes before us all before finally sitting with us. The conversation is light, and in the vein of 'getting to know you'. We sit for two hours, just talking. And when the visit comes to an end, I find that I can't wait to meet Hazel again.

* * *

We stand in the hall, ready for the off. Jackson and his mother are hugging, arranging a time for the next visit. But I don't feel awkward. It's nice to see a proper relationship between mother and son. It makes me think, maybe I could try a little harder with my own mam.

Jackson and Hazel separate, and as Jackson moves to the door, Hazel eyes me tentatively. She makes some decision before slowly moving forwards and taking me in her arms.

I reciprocate the hug.

"Thanks for the lunch, it was lovely," I say, truthfully.

"Thank you, Aaron. And I'm sorry. Truly sorry."

"No need to worry," I whisper, as we separate. She's misty eyed again, but I'm grateful that we've all cleared the air.

"It was nice meeting you," she grins, for Jackson has thrown his arm over my shoulder.

"And you. We should do something again, soon," I reply, smiling at Jackson.

"Yeah, definitely. I'll call Jackson and arrange something."

"Great," I reply.

And we bid farewell, exit the home and clamber into the van. We buckle in as Hazel waves us off before retreating back inside.

"Not so bad, right?" Jackson asks, starting the engine.

"She's some laugh," I agree. I lean over and kiss his lips chastely, his beard rubbing against my stubble-covered cheek. "Now, let's head to the Woolie... I think I owe you a drink!"

"Aaron Livesy is gonna spend money on me? I best take note – who knows when it'll happen again?" he exclaims. I slap his head, laughing.

"Oi, I could get a concussion!"

"Don't tempt me!"

And he laughs, puts the van in gear and we leave the neighbourhood.

* * *

_I could really use a wish right now; wish right now, wish right now..._


End file.
